Walk The Seven Seas
by NotAMuggleMiss
Summary: "They were having the same argument for the third time in as many weeks, and all Daphne could think about was that nobody would ever believe her if she told them she broke up with Neville Longbottom because he was being a selfish, big-headed, arse." DG/NL


Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Vol. 2. Much love to my Alpha/Beta, I_was_ her, you would have to read only my scattered thoughts.  
Song Prompt - Love Song, Sara Bareilles.

I own nothing.

* * *

They were having the same argument for the third time in as many weeks, and all Daphne could think about was that nobody would ever believe her if she told them she broke up with Neville Longbottom because he was being a selfish, big-headed, arse.

They'd been dating for nine months - a record for Daphne. None of the men who had shown any interest in her in the four years since the war ended had managed to hold on to her. She was accustomed to pretty words and to being told whatever it was wizards thought she wanted to hear. Neville was different. He seemed to mean what he was saying, even when he was using the same words the others before him had spoken by rote. He was sweet and he made her feel needed; maybe too much. But even then, she was drowning and couldn't possibly decide if she was truly happy for once, or simply less miserable than all the times before. Maybe she just refused to think about it long enough to determine her own feelings.

Daphne was allergic to commitment, which put her in a bit of a bind as a pureblood daughter. She was young and pretty, and her parents were just itching to marry her off to the highest well-bred bidder. Perhaps it was a bit of rebellion on her part that made her push away the men of her own choosing just as hard as she pushed those chosen for her. That's why Neville's recent insistence on commitment was making their relationship so impossible. It was his misguided attempt to help her, of course, as though promises to be serious enough to get her parents off her back wouldn't somehow lead to more pressure, a white dress, and babies; if she didn't go running for the hills before then. He was so earnest, he didn't even see that he was making it worse rather than better.

"Look Daph, I love you! But there are some days I'm not sure you even like me. It wouldn't kill you to show a little more affection! I need you to be able to tell me you love me," Neville pleaded. It was almost worse than shouting, if she was honest. She didn't do vulnerability - her own or others.

"I'm not exactly the grand gestures type, you knew that," she said flatly. "I'm not going to write you a love song because you ask for it!"

Neville seemed to deflate before her eyes. Daphne suddenly found herself contemplating that nobody would ever believe Neville Longbottom had dumped her, either. A feeling of panic settled deep in her stomach at the thought of her life without him, but even the dawning realisation that she loved him and didn't want to lose him didn't allow her to drop her guard and tell him so. This mask felt like a prison at times, the only thing between her and the world that knew nothing of her struggles. She couldn't just drop it at will, however much she might like to. And yet, somehow, Neville could read her like an open book.

"I'm not giving up on you," he said softly, warm brown eyes meeting hers. He walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her temple. "I'm not looking for grand gestures...just…" he sighed and affectionately tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're worth it. You deserve love. I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked away. And Daphne let him, because she didn't know what else to do.

Several long hours passed after he had gone before she could shake her mental fog. As the numbness faded, the worries from earlier began to resurface with alarming speed. Her mind would not stop, the thoughts were swirling around in her head without anything making any sense. It was getting harder to breathe and as she started gasping for air she ran down the hall to the bathroom at the back of her flat, stumbling to the sink. She turned on the cold tap and bent her head under the faucet, letting the freezing water simultaneously shock and calm her.

After several minutes, she shut off the tap, dried her hair with a charm, and walked slowly to her bedroom. As always, her receding anxiety left exhaustion in its wake, along with alarming clarity. She had given him an easy opportunity to walk away and he hadn't taken it. That had to mean something, she thought, as she climbed into bed.

* * *

The solution to Daphne's problems materialised in her mind as she was drinking her tea the next morning. She hurriedly sent a few owls before hopping into the shower to get ready for her lunch date with Neville. Replies came as she was charming her hair and she grinned at herself in the mirror. Slipping into a sundress in his favourite shade of blue and toeing on a pair of serviceable ballet flats, she apparated to Diagon Alley and walked to their favourite restaurant for their weekly reservation.

She didn't expect to find Neville standing outside, rather than waiting at their regular table. He smiled broadly at her and wrapped her into a quick hug.

"Hello love, I hope you don't mind, but I've arranged something a little different today…" he hesitated, unsure of her reaction.

"Oh! A surprise! What's the occasion?" she quipped, feeling surprisingly affable. A change of plans usually made her rather anxious, but she was determined to make this a good day and found she wasn't actually bothered this time.

Neville momentarily paled at her question, then reached for her hand, directing her to walk along with him.

"I just thought we could use a change of scenery. Fancy a picnic?" he seemed to rush out nervously.

"That sounds lovely. I'm quite starving though; I hope it isn't far!" she replied.

Neville's confidence was obviously bolstered by her acceptance of his plans. He apparated them to a clearing in the woods on the Longbottom estate that had been transformed into a peaceful garden. She had been here before, it was one of their favourite spots to sit and enjoy the seasonable weather. Flowers nearly filled the space, beautiful and fragrant. A wooden gazebo sat off to one side and a small pond with a covered swing occupied the opposite edge of the space. A winding path led from the gazebo to the pond.

He gently guided her toward the gazebo, where their lunch was already spread out. They sat side by side and enjoyed the food in comfortable silence. Daphne always felt calm here, perhaps a side effect of being near Neville when he was in his element. Every plant and flower in this garden had been cared for by his loving hands, and the time and skill he put into it was immediately apparent. Lost in thought, she considered that perhaps she felt at home here because she was also one of those things he seemed to cherish and care for.

She glanced at Neville to find him staring at her with a tender, but otherwise unreadable expression on his face.

"Let's get married, Daphne," he spoke softly but firmly.

She sat rooted in place, completely unprepared, staring back at him.

"I'm serious," he rushed out, registering her lack of reaction, and continuing with a tinge of panic in his voice. "You've made it clear you're not a big romantic proposal kind of girl. I hope I'm not reading you all wrong, but please think about it! We can drag it out and take our time. We'll plan the biggest wedding anyone could possibly imagine, make it the talk of the wizarding world for a few years. It will give your parents something to obsess over, to brag about and we can just be happy..."

"Oh, Neville…" Daphne whispered. "No, I couldn't!"

Neville looked crestfallen. Scalding guilt spread through her, forcing Daphne to avert her eyes. She rubbed her clammy palms along the fabric covering her thighs.

"It's simply not for me, the big dress, being the center of attention! Every friend, acquaintance, and political ally my family has ever met will jockey to be invited. The thousands of details my mother would nitpick over. I can promise you nothing we did would be good enough...Fancy food, all the money spent just to impress. And the pressure! I can't even imagine the anxiety it would cause me, being expected to be absolutely perfect..." she trailed off.

She looked up and found Neville on the verge of tears. In his shaking hands was an open ring box, with a beautiful sapphire ring cushioned inside. She bent over to see it more clearly, reaching out to touch it.

"It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed.

"It made me think of you," he mumbled back. "I never thought you wouldn't…" A sharp intake of breath interrupted his thought as he fought to regain his composure.

Daphne studied him, slightly puzzled by his apparent grief, as she replayed their conversation in her head. Comprehension dawned and she placed her hand on Neville's cheek, bringing his eyes up to hers.

"Let's elope!" she giggled. She wasn't certain how to explain that she had planned only this morning to propose this very course of action, only to have her thunder stolen at the last moment. She didn't mind, of course, though she would have prefered to avoid the misunderstanding for the sake of Neville's poor feelings. Perhaps it was best not to explain too much. He was still sitting in shocked silence. She smiled broadly at him and carded her hand through his hair affectionately, and it seemed to break through to him.

"Didn't I just ask you to marry me? Didn't you just...say no?" he asked, clearly confused.

"It's the big wedding I don't want. I'd very much like to be your wife, please!" she said matter of factly. "How about today?"

"Are you serious? You aren't serious...This is madness! How could we possibly arrange to get married today? The day is half over! Where would we go?" Neville practically shouted, looking very overwhelmed.

Daphne took a deep breath. It seemed a confession was in order after all.

"I suppose if I start from the beginning and explain myself, this will all make sense," Daphne conceded.

Neville nodded.

"When I realised you wouldn't leave me just because I was being difficult, I decided you deserved that love song after all...so I decided to ask you myself," she explained.

Neville was watching her in silence. All manner of emotions crossed his face as he stared into her eyes.

"When I got up this morning, today seemed as good a day as any other. All we really need to get married is an Unspeakable and a few witnesses, so I sent some owls. Since Hermione works in the Department of Mysteries, I thought maybe she would be willing to do us a favour. I asked Theo to speak to her. She agreed enthusiastically, something about it being the most romantic gesture since Theo's wedding vows," she disclosed. "Draco and Luna are quite happy to come witness for us. I knew you would want your best friend to be present; you are the sentimental type," she said with a fond smile.

"You were this certain I'd say yes?" Neville queried, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yes. I do know you love me. And you've only been trying to convince me for weeks. And there is no better way to irritate my parents than deprive them of a big society do! Shall we, then?" she prompted.

Neville exhaled loudly, looking like he wanted to laugh.

"I'll have to fetch my gran, or she will never forgive us," he said.

"I...may have taken the liberty of owling her this morning," Daphne admitted. "She is likely waiting for us by now with your family's handfasting ribbons."

Neville shook his head, laughing out loud this time.

"Did you know you are absolutely terrifying? Beautiful, lovely, and terrifying," he grinned at her again. "I'll get her. Can you assemble the others and meet me here in 10 minutes?"

"Yes. Absolutely." Daphne smiled.


End file.
